Carry On Dreaming (The Cowboy's Promise sequel) (SLOW UPDATES)

Chapter 6

I think over it. Either I can let him play it, and it sounds nothing like Blake's, or I can tell him no and hope he understands. Then again, there are songs Blake never played for me.

In the end, I let him play a few. They sound beautiful. Some are soft and soothing, others are high-energy and loud. I eventually grab a guitar and join him. I don't even notice until later, but El slips down and joins on the drums.

"Enough!" Dani yells in the middle of our session. We all freeze and look at her. She smiles. "Didn't know you played, Blaze."

He nods. We continue when she walks back upstairs. I watch Blaze's face as he plays. His features have an air of innocence, but they harden when he plays. His eyes are half-closed, studying the instrument. His tongue barely pokes out in the corner of his mouth. As I watch, I begin to form a plan.

He talks, but not much. The only time I've seen him actually open up and talk is about music. I mean, damn, he sang an entire song at the table this morning.

I know there's always one thing kids are passionate about. They'll open up and talk for hours. One kid, when I used to help out at the children's home, was only seven but loved mechanics. My car broke down at the center one day, and he helped me fix it. He knew everything from the radiator to the carburetor. I later found out that his dad, who tragically died of a heart attack, taught him his vast mechanics knowledge. His mom was in jail for drug use.

A girl at the center was shy and quiet. She wouldn't say a word to anyone. But she loved screamo and rock music. I got her to talk at least to me about music. I have the same plan to carry out with Blaze.

€*€

"Hey, babe?" Dani calls down later.

"Yes?"

"C'mere for a second. You too, Blaze."

"Coming, babe." I look at Blaze. "Doesn't sound like we're in trouble. Let's go see what she wants."

We trot up the stairs. My wife informs me that we have to enroll Blaze in high school, pick up dog and cow feed, and go meet my old friend Sebastian.

Blaze looks less than pleased. I laugh and ruffle his hair. Chuckling, he seats my hands away.

"Sorry, bud. You're fifteen. School starts in about a week. It's the law."

"Well, the law sucks."

I laugh. "It really does sometimes. What grade were you in last time you were in school?"

"Um, sixth."

"Damn. Well, I think they'll give you a test to see which grade you'll go into. You seem smart, so maybe you'll be in ninth. That's what you should be in, anyway."

Blaze just shakes his head. I tell him to hop in the truck while I grab my wallet and keys. Dani worriedly pesters me about my old high school as I walk around the kitchen.

"Babe," I sigh, kidding her on the cheek, "I had a completely mute kid in my Senior class. And Blaze is selective, not completely. The kid can talk. He talks to me."

"I know. But you know I worry. It's my job."

"And you do a great job, sweetheart," I reply, kissing her and walking out the door.

€*€

"Okay, Blaze. You're going to have to talk a little, alright?"

"But, there'll be a ton of people I don't know. What if they hate me?"

"Dude, they'll love you. There's always the typical asshole, but they should leave you alone. If not, talk to Sabian. That's my brother's ex-girlfriend's brother."

"And he's going to like me if I'm his sister's ex's nephew?" Blaze raises an eyebrow.

"Long story. The short of it is that Blake died, which is why Thalia is his ex. Jamie, the middle kid, hates me again, but that was because Blake broke his sister's heart a while back, so he resented our family. Warmed up when they got back together, but when Blake died, he felt hurt, betrayed, and angry. But he doesn't really know what he's feeling. Sabian loves us. He'll be cool to hang around."

Blaze nods as we pull into the high school. Several new students are registering, and I feel my son tense beside me. I put the truck in park, turn the ignition off, and look at him. He looks terrified.

"Okay, Blaze. Why will you talk to me, but no one else? I'm not angry or frustrated, I just want to know."

"Okay. I was diagnosed with selective mutism when I was like, seven. I barely talked, I had anxiety, I was terrified of doing presentations at school, talking to the teachers, meeting new people. But Mom and Dad always tried to help. I talked at home, and at my grandparents', just not out in public. I think I had one or two friends for like three years. My teachers called me a 'problem child' because I got so frustrated at not being able to talk.

"I was bad about acting out. It only got worse after my parents died. Mom was an only child, so I had to go live with my aunt and uncle. And they beat me. And for the smallest things. It took 7 months for it to start, and two years for DHS to figure it out. They grabbed me and put me in an orphanage. Bounced around and came back. Foster home took me in two weeks later. A man, his wife, a teenage son, and a military son. It was great. The sons loved me. Especially the oldest one. Not a clue why. He just did. I didn't talk from the time they removed me from my aunt and uncle's to the time he was deployed. I slowly stopped again when he was killed in action.

"You're really the first one I've talked to since then. I mean, like opened up. Sure, I've said the polite hello and all that when need be, but that's it."

I smile at Blaze. We haven't known each other a week, and already he's opening up to me. "Well, anytime you need to talk, I'm here. Except for today. We have shit to do today."

Blaze laughs and shakes his head as we hop out of the truck. We match into the school and run smack into Sabian. He drops his chemistry book and glares at me for a fraction of a second before grinning.

"Red Dodge! You're just all up in my way! Can't you see I'm walking here? Who ya got with you?"

"Sabian, this is my adopted son, Blaze. Blaze, Sabian. This is the kid I told you about."

Both boys shake hands. Blaze already has that shy look in his eyes. I know what's coming when Sabian asks what grade Blaze is in. So I direct him to the office and step to the side with Sabian. The high schooler gives me a curious look.

"My son has a condition known as selective mutism. Ever heard of it?"

Sabian nods. "Yup. I researched it for psychology last year and my best friend in fourth grade had it."

"Great. I mean, not for the kid, but great you've experienced it. Blaze is in ninth. See if Mrs. Dragger won't let follow Blaze around a little, help him and classmates. Or set him up with a guy you trust in his class." 

Sabian nods as I follow Blaze. "On it."